


consequences & new beginnings

by pipkinxchaos



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M, Masturbation, Nerd Dean, Panty Kink, Punk Castiel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-03
Updated: 2014-04-02
Packaged: 2018-01-03 09:12:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1068700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pipkinxchaos/pseuds/pipkinxchaos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean just wants to live his quiet life and finish out high school, but his old best friend and giant crush Castiel moves back into town and stirs up all sorts of emotions he's trying to keep tamped down. Honestly he'd rather just keep jerking off to cute guys over the internet.<br/>or nerd!Dean find's punk!Cas's tumblr nudes and I just had to throw in a little angst because what is my life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> if anyone can remember who wrote the original prompt 'nerd!dean finds classmate punk!cas's tumblr and his nudes' I would be totally stoked to credit them for it because it has been stuck in my head for quite a while and they deserve credit.

Throughout his entire highschool career Dean Winchester told himself that the next year would definitely be, at the very least, more bearable. He was nearing the halfway mark on his junior year and still completely certain this year was going to be just like the others, miserable and overly long. 

It was a cold November Monday when he dropped Sammy off at his middle school and headed off to his own classes. The parking lot was just as over-filled as he parked the impala and the hallways were just as loud and stifling as he made his way to his first period. 

His first class of the day was English 11 and he was intensely bored with it. They were discussing The Great Gatsby in class and if he had to hear one more comment about how romantic Gatsby’s love of Daisy was he was going to up-chuck. It was like reading Romeo & Juliet freshman year all over again. He took his same seat towards the back of class and popped in his headphones, listening to Metallica and waiting for the bell. He still had a good ten minutes so he took out his phone and opened up his tumblr app and started scrolling through the posts he missed while sleeping. Not a whole lot of new stuff. Some more screenshots from the new Hobbit trailer, more Hiddleston fan girls, apparently they had announced a date for Sherlock, a few firefly gifs, some surprisingly graphic gay porn, Doctor Who meta regarding the 50th special. It was all the same shit he always saw. It was like his dash was on a big loop. He put his phone away, telling himself he’d find some new blogs to follow when he got home, as long as he wasn’t swimming in homework. He pushed his glasses up on his nose and tucked his face into his arms to wait for class to start. 

His music wasn’t up loud enough to block out the sounds of students shuffling in and desks scooting around. This was one of the few classes where he didn’t particularly care for anyone in the class, opting to do group projects on his own. When the bell rang for class to start he put away his iPod and pulled out his beginning-of-class journal and looked up to the front board for the writing prompt.

**what do you plan to do over thanksgiving break?  
** _Nothing. With absolutely no one._

Dean sighed deep and thunked his head onto his desk. It wasn’t as if he didn’t have any friends. He had plenty of friends. They just didn’t ever really hang out with him outside school. They all had their own lives. As long as he had an Internet connection he’d be fine without them. He could stream whatever movies or series or talk to whatever online friends he wanted. Besides, too much social interaction tended to make him anxious. 

“Can I help you?” Mr Fitzgerald’s voice broke the silence of the classroom and had half the class’s gaze momentarily. 

“Uh yeah, I’m new or whatever. They told you about me, right?” A gruff and unamused voice shot back flatly. 

“Oh, I guess you must be Castiel Novak.”

_What._

“I guess I must be.”

Dean’s head shot up from his desk to look. He was just standing there in the doorway picking a string off the overly-long sleeve of his striped hoodie and looking almost unrecognizable. The left quarter of his head was shaved and his eyes were ringed with black eyeliner. He had a silver bar in his eyebrow and a ring in his nose like a bull. He was chewing at the stud on the right side of his lip while he picked at his nails waiting for Mr Fitzgerald to find the extra textbook in his messy desk. His straight legged jeans looked fitted in all the right ways and had what looked like thorny vines hand drawn around one of the thighs. He was not the kid Dean remembered but he was fucking _gorgeous._

He could feel the blush creeping up his cheeks and he ducked his head back down and tried to start working on the morning journal exercise. When he heard Mr Fitzgerald plunk a textbook down and Cas shuffle into the desk he chanced another look in his direction. 

Cas was in the front center seat on the classroom, slouched against the bent side bar of the crappy desk, and chewing on a pen cap and doing what looked more like drawing than writing to Dean. 

_I’m so fucked_

When class finally ended Dean waiting for most of the class, including Cas, to clear out before he left the classroom and headed at full speed to the art wing for Auto Shop. It was going to be a long day.

When lunch rolled around it turned out Cas had the same lunch period as him as well. He was trying not to be a creep, but he ended up sitting there watching Cas sitting alone and scrolling through something on his phone while picking disinterestedly at a basket of fries. 

“Earth to Dean!” Jo shouted and snapped her fingers in front of his face. “What the fuck are you drooling at?”

Dean shook his head and focused back on his own food. He had only taken a few bites of his burger and the fluttering in his stomach was staving away his hunger. 

“Is it that guy over there?” She whispered twisting around to gape at him. “He doesn’t look like your type but he’s a total babe. He’s new right? I bet I could get him to come sit with us.”

“Noo! No. No, Jo. Just leave it. He doesn’t want to sit with us.”

“How do you know? D’you already know the guy?”

_Yes._ "No. Sort of. I used to. He was.." _the first person I ever really wanted._ “We used to be friends or whatever.” _he was my first god damn kiss_ "Long time ago. We were pretty close." _I wanted him to be my first god damn everything._ “And then his family moved away and he just..'" _ditched me._ “Whatever. It was like 6th grade. The point is he doesn’t wanna sit with us. And I don’t really wanna sit with him.”

Jo looked at him with an indiscernible face and elbowed Charlie next to her. “Do you believe this crock of shit Winchester is spewing? It’s more cryptic than the weird shit Ash says.”

Charlie giggled as Ash dropped his tray on the table loudly and took a seat next to Dean. 

“You shut your dirty mouth Joanna Beth and stop mocking Dean I got an important question for him.”

“What, Ash?” Dean sighed. 

“Did I or did I not see Cas freakin Novak walking through the halls looking like the wrong end of Hot Topic?”

“Jesus Christ, Ash, really?”

“So that’s the guy’s name? Cas?” Jo teased eagerly. 

“Oh, was he already here? Please tell me I missed the crying and hugging.”

“Ooh crying and hugging, why crying and hugging?”

Dean shoved his tray out of his way and stood up, pushing glasses back up his nose and grabbing his backpack. 

“I’m going to the library.”

“What about your food?” Jo called out after him. 

“I’m not hungry!”

He made his way to the library and hid himself in his favorite plush chair in the back. He was sure Ash was filling his friends in on the rest of the story. 

Dean and Cas had been best friends as long as he could remember. The weird kind of kid best friends that had no boundaries and did absolutely everything together. John found it slightly worrying but Mary always told him they would outgrow the clingy stage. When Dean was seven John died in a car accident and Jimmy and Lilith practically let Cas move into Dean’s room to keep him company. They spent every night wound around each other, and it was no one’s business but their own. They got older and it never changed. When they were twelve Jimmy’s work transferred him to Illinois and they had to move. As devastated as the boys were they knew they couldn’t change it and they spent every last second of their time together before the Novaks moved away. The night before he left they got all snugged up in Dean’s bed and he kissed Dean, sweet as could be, and whispered promises against his lips. He promised to write every day, call twice as often, and maybe even come visit over the summer. Dean held on as tight as he could and believed every word of it. 

The next morning the Novaks left and Dean never saw or heard from any of them again. Until now. 

Now Cas was in his English class. His sister and brothers were no doubt back in town too. He gave a brief thought as where in their small town his parents might have moved to. It didn’t really matter, he supposed. Cas clearly hadn’t given Dean a second thought since they were eleven, and Dean didn’t need to give him a second thought now. 

The bell for lunch to end sounded and Dean grabbed his bag and headed to his last class of the day. The great part about going to a high school with block scheduling was that you only had four classes a day. The shitty part was that they were all an hour and a half long.

The last class of the day went smoothly and before Dean knew it he was walking out of the school. He knew he wouldn’t be home for a while, but that didn’t bug him. He was just glad to be out of there and have his mind off Cas. He hopped in the impala and drove to Sam’s middle school, parked in the circle drive and waited. He knew he had a good half hour before Sam was out so he pulled his phone to check his six new texts.

**[From: Jo 12:50  
hey sry for bein a dick]**

**[From: Jo 12:52**  
 ** i mean i didnt think i was bein a dick but Charlie and ash said i was so] **

**[From: Ash 13:02**  
 ** so are we not allowed to talk about Cas or what bc I’m pretty confused about this whole situation] **

**[From: Charlie 13:30**  
 ** Please tell me Jo apologized for being a dick earlier.] **

**[From: Jo 14:02**  
 ** ur not mad at me are u?] **

**[From: Sammy 14:42**  
 ** you’ll never guess whos in my health class!!!] **

Dean had a guess ready, considering they were most of the way through the semester and Cas had just moved here. Still, Sam didn’t need to be texting during class. He popped an ACDC tape into the deck and shot back a couple of replies.

**[To: Jo 15:10**  
 ** No, Jo I’m not mad at you.] **

**[To: Charlie 15:10**  
 ** Yes] **

**[To: Ash 15:11**  
 ** I’d really rather not talk about him, it’s kind of a sore spot.] **

Ash was the only one who had gone to the same school as him since elementary, he met Jo in middle school and Charlie freshman year. They didn’t really know any of the backstory with Cas, but even Ash never knew just how close the two were. If anybody was gonna call Dean on his shit, it would be Ash. Jo had no problem trying, but she didn’t even know the beginning of the story there. He leaned his forehead on the steering wheel and zoned out. 

When he came to there were kids swarming around his car, running to buses and getting in cars and his phone in his lap had a new text.

**[From: Ash 15:28**  
 ** it was five years ago dude] **

If anyone was going to call him on his shit, it would be Ash. He sighed and chucked his phone in the cup holder, just in time for Sammy to climb in the car. 

“Dean! You’re never gonna guess whose in my class now!”

“Anna Novak.”

“Yeah! Wait how’d you know?”

“Cas is in one of my classes now.”

“Isn’t it great? I never thought we’d see them again.”

“Yeah, me neither.” Dean grumbled as he pulled out of the circle drive and headed for home.

When they walked in the door and tossed their shoes and backpacks in the entryway the smell of lasagna assailed their nostrils, and Sam took a big exaggerated inhale. 

“You boys do your homework before you start playing video games!” Mary called out from the kitchen. 

“Yes mom!” was the unison reply she received back. 

Dean was ahead on his English book and his only homework for the week was to read a few chapters, so he was as good as set for the night. He headed up to his room and opened his laptop. 

Tumblr was already open and he checked what his queue posted while he was at school and refreshed his dash again. Same shit he saw this morning just regurgitated in a new order. Dean needed new blogs to follow. He clicked through the blogrolls of his favorites opening any that caught his eye into separate widows, and then closing any with autoplay. Dean wasn’t sure how but somehow he always ended up following photography blogs. Mostly landscapes and pictures of sights from all around America. He always wanted to travel. As a kid he dreamed about roadtrips in the impala, when the furthest he’d even been was to his cousin Christian’s in Nebraska. 

He did follow a few NSFW blogs, because let’s be real, a boys got needs. He went through a few of the more ‘artsy’ NSFW blogs he was following, trying to find a picture he had seen a few weeks ago of someone he wouldn’t mind seeing more of. Every time he saw it he couldn’t help but ogle the man in it, who had to be around his own age. He scrolled through hoping it had originally been posted on tumblr, and not reposted from weheartit, or that it at least had been sourced right. 

Eventually he did find the photo he was looking for. It was a black and white picture of a man’s back, all thin lithe muscle and perfect angles, with a gorgeous pair of angel wings tattooed sprouting from his shoulder blades. The face was out of view, but you could see a perky ass and the tops of his thighs. The guy was gorgeous all over and Dean did not hesitate a second finding the source blog. 

Dean was secure in his sexuality. He always knew he wasn’t straight. He was interested in guys. He was interested in girls. Hell, he even had a thing for androgyny. He never made a big deal of coming out to his family. He dated his first boy in 8th grade, his name was Aaron, and when Mary caught them holding hands under the dinner table she kissed Dean on the top of the head and told Aaron he was welcome back anytime he wanted. 

When he found the source of the photo he was elated to see it tagged #me. He scrolled through the rest of the blog, and it was quite obviously someone’s photography side blog, with no link to their personal. It just said 

_welcome to hell. nsfw._

There were a lot of photos of an urban area, a few signs clued him into guessing it was Chicago, and a lot of artistic body shots, men and women, mostly nude and mostly tattooed. He clicked the #me tag on another one of the black and white body shots and was not disappointed. 

The first color shot he found was cropped from collar bone to hip, a strip of red lace holding the base of his reddening cock to his stomach, tip peeking out and drooling precome over the lace band Dean could only assume went _jesus christ_ to a pair of panties. One of the boy’s hands was sliding up his chest, and the other was toying with the gap between his sharp hipbone and the stretched lace, half covering what looked like a tattoo of a white lily. 

Dean could already feel the arousal pooling in his stomach as he scrolled through more of his pictures, some more and less explicit, all of them without his face. He clicked _**follow**_ quick as he could, shut his laptop, and headed off to take a quick shower. He still had grease under his nails from auto shop. _Yeah thats a good excuse._

The hot shower soothed his muscles and the more time he spent in there the more he thought about the mystery photographer guy with the tattoos and panties and gorgeous cock. _What’s the harm in a little fantasy?_ he asked himself as he leaned against the shower wall and gave himself a few swift strokes. He wondered what the guy would look like in real life. If all that lean muscle was just as gorgeous close up, or if he tasted as good as he looked. He wondered what his lips would feel like on him. If they would be round and plump like Cas’ _No bad train of thought, don’t think that. Fuck._ and before he knew it he was spilling onto the shower floor and only feeling a little guilty and a little more ashamed. Jerking it to thoughts of a complete stranger was one thing, but to thoughts of Cas was a whole different ballpark. _That bordered on creepy and sad._ Dean sighed to himself and finished up his shower.

By the time he came downstairs Sam and Mary were digging into the lasagna. Dean sat down at the place Mary had set for him and scooped himself up a fat piece. They ate in silence until Mary finished her first piece.

“I saw Michael Novak at the market today.” Mary said to no one in specific, “He said they moved back into town. Apparently Jimmy’s boss transferred him back to the Kansas branch.” 

“I bet he did.” Dean grumbled back disinterestedly. 

“Don’t be like that, Dean. Have you even seen Cas yet?” 

“He’s in one of my classes.”

“And?”

“And what, mom? I haven’t talked to him. He’s different now and I don’t wanna hear any of the excuses he’s gonna make. It’s not gonna make it up to me.”

“Dean, honey..” Mary gave him an understanding yet pitying mother-type look and Dean just couldn’t take it.

“Can we just not talk about Cas, okay? I would really appreciate that.”

Mary had been there for him when Cas left. On all the nights Cas didn’t call Mary sat up with him, waiting. After a month of radio silence Mary tried to look up the Novak’s contact information in Illinois, but they were unlisted, and Jimmy’s company refused to give out any employee’s personal information. After two months and no call Dean quit waiting up at night. After a year Dean asked Mary if there was something he had said or done to cause it. Watching Dean tear himself up about it broke Mary’s heart. It was another year later before Dean even entertained the idea of dating someone else, and another before he lost all hope of seeing Cas again. He still had a lot of issues now with relationships, both platonic or romantic. Deep down Dean still thought he had done something to cause Cas to ultimately abandon him, and he hadn’t ever really forgiven himself for it. 

The rest of dinner passed by quietly, if not completely awkwardly. When he was done eating Dean put his plate in the sink and headed back up to his room. This whole Castiel situation was stressing him out and giving him a headache. 

He pulled off his glasses, massaged the bridge of his nose, and put them back on his face. There was still another hour before he was going to even entertain the idea of going to sleep, so he tucked in and got on tumblr on his phone again. The gorgeous photographer boy he had started following posted a new picture of what appeared to be a bedroom. The bed was larger than even two people would need and a small dark fluffy cat was sleeping in the middle of it. The only caption said _a fresh start for do-overs_. He wasn’t sure what it meant, but he was definitely sure he wanted to know what that bed was like. _What’s the harm in a little fun?_ Dean opened the guy’s askbox and turned on anon. 

_I hope you know you were my own little jerk off fantasy tonight._

He hesitated for a second before saying _fuck it_ and clicking send. Anonymity on the internet was one of his favorite things. He knew he'd never be able to say that shit to someone in real life. But to someone he would never meet, that didn't matter. The worst thing that could happen is that the guy deletes his message, right?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm kind of getting an hang on where this is going.  
> also this chapter was going to get posted at some point next week but the week's episode turned me into emotional pudding and only writing made me feel better.

The only thing that got Dean out of bed that morning was the fact that it was the Tuesday before thanksgiving break. That meant today was the last day of school until Monday and he didn't have to do a god damn thing on his time off. There was even a promise of pie. All he had to do was make it through today.

His morning routine went quicker than normal. Wake Sammy. Brush teeth. Wake Sammy again. Find clothes. Grab breakfast. Into the car. Drop Sammy at school. Head to his own school. He was halfway there when he remembered the previous day had even existed. That’s right. Cas was back. _Fucking peachy. How the hell could I forget?_ Hopefully he’d make it through today without having a class with him. 

He pulled into the school parking lot, parking in his usual spot and thunking his head against the steering wheel. _With my crappy luck he's probably gonna be in all my fuckin classes today._  Dean took a deep breath, summoned his courage, and gathered his things to head into class.

He made it through the first half of his day without issue; gym was always easy, and US History had him bored out of his mind and done hearing the mindless chatter of other students making plans over the break. It wasn't until lunch break that he remembered the anonymous message he sent to to mystery photographer. He was almost giddy to know what he had said back, or if he had even seen the ask yet. He wanted to check right then, but he knew if he pulled his phone out Jo would badger him to know what he was doing. Dean almost never bothered to check his phone during school hours, it usually only served to captivate an hour of his time when he so much as glanced at it, and that tended to be bad for his grades. He’d have to wait until 8th block study hall. He didn't know anyone in his class, and he didn't have any homework yet. For now he’d have to calm his heartbeat and eat his lunch.

The minutes until his class ended seemed to stretch for ever, and by the time he was headed to study hall Dean could feel his skin vibrating. _What if he thinks I came off creepy? Maybe I did come of creepy. Maybe he just deleted it. He probably gets a lot of creepy asks like mine and he probably deletes them all. Why am I getting so worked up over this? He doesn't even know who I am. I don’t even know who he is. Jesus, Dean, calm down._

He didn't really mean to work himself up over the situation, but honestly he did this kind of thing more than he was willing to admit. It was the real reason he tended to hang out with his friends less than he really wanted to. He was always judging the things he said after the fact, harshly criticizing every word that came out of his mouth. Usually once every few weeks he managed to convince himself that one of his few friends hated him, or thought he was obnoxious for whatever reason. It was never _actually_ the case, but in sixteen years he had gotten pretty good at believing his own bullshit. 

Dean had practically sprinted to his study hall, so he wasn't particularly surprised at being the first person into the classroom. He ducked into the back corner seat, closest to the door, and pulled out his phone. The few seconds it took to load the tumblr felt agonizingly long, and waiting for his blog felt even longer.

 **anonymous asked:** I hope you know you were my own little jerk off fantasy tonight.  
 _you sure know how to make a guy feel special. i’ll show you more if you show me yours._

 _Jesus Christ. Is he serious? Not exactly the reaction I was expecting, but I guess I can’t complain._  After a moments deliberation he scrolled back up to the askbox and and turned on anonymous again.

_I’m just a skinny teenage boy, no tattoos or anything, you don’t wanna see someone like me._

He hesitated a moment before hitting _**ask**_ and quickly returning to his dash. He mindlessly scrolled and let his brain wander. 

Tomorrow was the first day of thanksgiving vacation and he planned to sleep all the way in. Maybe play some Mass Effect. Maybe go down to the comic shop. Most everything was going to be closed Thursday and he didn’t plan on going fuckin anywhere on Black Friday. Those soccer moms could get crazy and he didn’t really want to get trampled to death or tazed. Maybe if it wasn’t too cold he’d give the impala a tune up. Or take Sammy to a movie. Then again they might be visiting his Grandparents again for the holidays, and grandpa Samuel could talk forever. 

He zoned back in and realized he was scrolling through yesterday’s dashboard. He refreshed and was immediately thrown for a loop.

 **anonymous asked:** I’m just a skinny teenage boy, no tattoos or anything, you don’t wanna see someone like me.  
 _oh sweetheart you’re hitting all the selling points. i love em sweet and timid and ready for me to get my hands into. my friends call it a virgin kink. i call it liking my boys easily moldable. i bet you’re an easily moldable sweet little thing, aren't you?_

Dean could feel the shy smile spreading across his lips and the blush rising in his cheeks. _Did he say virgin kink? Would be interested in me? Why am I even thinking about a stranger like this?_  

It wasn't as if Dean didn't have experience. He had dated a few people before, girls and guys. And by his own standards it had been pretty intense while it lasted. But as far as he had ever gotten was a few rushed handjobs in the dark. He told himself that decidedly meant _not virgin_  but in all honesty if he was going to get into anything involving penetration he would be a little lost. He had seen enough porn to not make a fool of himself, but had enough understanding to know that anything he was going to do was in no way going to happen like that. He didn't even know if he was a top or a bottom. 

He looked up from his phone and realized the classroom was full, study hall had apparently started 45 minutes ago. _How long did I zone out?_ He glanced around and noticed _son of a bitch_ Cas Novak in a seat facing his on the opposite side of the room. And looking at him with his stupid eyebrow quirked in a confused expression. Making eye contact with those stupid gorgeous blue eyes Dean always loved. _Jesus Christ stop staring at him, what is my problem?_ Dean tore his gaze away, removed his glasses, and pillowed his head in his arms on his desk. If he didn’t have anything to do he wasn’t going to chance Cas trying to talk to him for the next 45 minutes.

  


Dean was stoked to be back home and have nothing to do for the next five days. On his way out of school Charlie tried to guilt him into joining her D&D group that weekend, but he had totally deflected and changed the subject and then got out of there before she remembered. Now he was playing Fallout 3 and eating a whole pizza by himself because Sammy was staying over at his friend Kevin’s and Mary was working a late shift at the hospital. 

His mind kept wandering back to the photographer. _What did he mean he’d show me more if I showed him mine? I've seen it all, haven't I? What would he post if I sent him something? Am I really entertaining the idea of sending him something? I mean if it was anonymous no one could ever trace it back to me, right? All I have to do is keep my face out of the picture. The picture I'm totally not gonna take. Why am I thinking about this?_

Before he knew it he was digging through his closet. Last year the yearbook had needed a group picture of the school’s Gay-Straight-Alliance for the yearbook and everyone voted to take it in Dean’s backyard. And Jo had left her tripod in his room afterwards, where he had _there it is_ stashed it in his closet. He pulled it out from the back and set it in the middle of the room, pulling it into open position as he dropped it. He grabbed his digital camera out of the desk drawer and started clicking through the features. _Three or five shots? Three should be fine. As long as auto timer is on long enough. Seven seconds should work. Am I really going to do this?_

He kept questioning himself, but his hands kept moving. Setting the camera settings. Attaching it to the tripod. Pointing it towards a clutter-free wall. Removing his Star Trek tee shirt and tossing it on his bed. Unfastening and dropping his jeans. Giving the button a hard press. He leaned against the wall and put his hands on his stomach. _Deep breath, Dean. You can delete them as soon as you take them, if you really want._  He reached on hand up his chest, thumb grazing a nipple. The other hand slid down, gripping and adjusting his _wow when did I get this hard?_ aching erection over his black boxer-briefs. He gave a good squeeze and twist as he heard the **_click click click_** of the shutter. 

He didn't bother redressing before he uploaded the photos to his computer. The first was too blurry around the hands. The second was a little too boring, not enough twist in the wrist or grip of the fingers. Left too much to the imagination. The third picture was perfect, enough firm grip to look alive, didn't look graphic, but still got the point across. He opened it in photoshop, cropped out his head and played with the colors until he realized he was stalling. By his own standards it might even have been something he’d be interested in.

_No sense in wasting such a good shot.._

He clicked over to google chrome and opened his mystery photographer’s tumblr. Opening his submit box, choosing the photo, and figuring out how to make himself _actually_ anonymous was easy. Figuring out what to write with it was incredibly difficult. _What’s a non creep way to say “Hey I think you’re hot as hell, here’s me in my undies borderline jerking off so you’ll show me more”?_ He clicked down to the text box and thought a little harder.

_You said to show you mine. How about a name to call you in return?_

He hesitated a moment, and then clicked **_submit_**.  _No going back now._


	3. Chapter 3

[southern_comfort] shouldn't you be at school right now brother?  
[literallybatman] pff no  
[literallybatman] it’s thanksgiving break dude  
[southern_comfort] you gotta be kidding me  
[southern_comfort] that school of yours gives you too many breaks   
[literallybatman] do you not have thanksgiving break in louisiana?  
[southern_comfort] man I haven’t been in school in a long time  
[southern_comfort] I don’t remember how that stuff works  
[literallybatman] yeah and when I get back I prepare for finals  
[southern_comfort] I do remember how those work   
[southern_comfort] condolences, brother  
[literallybatman] yeah well I’m trying to get as much living as I can done before I’m fucking swamped with finals bullshit  
[southern_comfort] you’re a smart kid, you’ll do fine  
[literallybatman] yeah I know man, it’s just unnecessary stress   
[literallybatman] plus  
[literallybatman] uggh  
[literallybatman] okay  
[literallybatman] do you remember that guy I told you about  
[literallybatman] who like used to be my best friend or whatever  
[literallybatman] and then he just like left me  
[southern_comfort] yeah he was called Cas or something, right?  
[literallybatman] yeah well his family just moved back into town  
[literallybatman] and now he goes to my school and he’s in my classes  
[southern_comfort] have you tried talking to the guy?  
[literallybatman] what  
[literallybatman] no  
[literallybatman] fuck that guy  
[literallybatman] I don’t wanna hear his dumb ass excuses  
[southern_comfort] I’m just sayin brother  
[southern_comfort] you clearly meant a lot to each other   
[southern_comfort] he had to have a reason  
[literallybatman] yeah well I got too much shit to do to worry about him  
[southern_comfort] I’ll leave you to that then  
[southern_comfort] I gotta get down to the docks, check up on my boat  
[southern_comfort] taking the lady out for a romantic weekend  
[southern_comfort] goin out in the bay while the weathers still half decent, nothin but us and the water  
[literallybatman] she’ll def love it benny  
[southern_comfort] that’s the hope  
[literallybatman] catch you later man  
[southern_comfort] stay sane, brother.   
[southern_comfort is offline. ]

Dean clicked out of Skype and sat for a moment. Maybe Benny was right. He always was always a voice of reason. But then again, fuck that dreamy douchebag. He rolled his eyes and opened up tumblr. 

He was maybe obsessing a little since he sent the picture to his mystery photographer, but he had yet to check yet, out of anxiety and fear. A few quick clicks and he was on the other boy’s blog. There were only two new posts. The first of them was a text post, dated not long after he submitted his picture.

  


_god damn sweatheart, you can call me whatever you like. i’m keeping that little photo gem for my eyes only, but you can expect a little reciprocity later_

  


The second post was another picture, but not of himself, dated a few hours ago. It was a gif, in black and white, of what appeared to be Clarence. He was laying back on bed sheets, chest heaving, stomach splattered with come. His face was out of frame, but his slender neck and perfectly bite-able collarbones were not. He still had hold of his softening cock with one hand, other hand was swiping a droplet of come of his soft tummy and bringing it to what Dean could only only assume was his mouth. The caption read _they call me Clarence_. Underneath it was tagged _#for my little anon_. 

_Jesus fucking Christ._ Dean swallowed hard and smiled. _Clarence, huh? Wasn’t that the angel from that Christmas movie? That’s a little transparent, isn’t it? At least I have something to call him._ He scrolled back up to his askbox and his hands hovered over the keyboard. 

_since you liked that last one so much, maybe I could manage to send another your way_

He stared at the submit button. _Why do I hesitate every time I do this? This is stupid. Grow a pair, Winchester._ He checked the box for anonymous and clicked **submit**.

  


It was a few hours before Mary woke up from her much needed rest. By that time Dean had already showered and eaten all of his left over pizza from the night before, and when Sam got home from Kevin’s Dean was halfway through rewatching the new Star Trek movie. He wasn't really paying attention to it, his brain was too fixated on Clarence. His thin muscled frame. The slope of his shoulders. The curve of his hip bones. The ink on his skin. He was practically drooling at the idea of getting his hands on him. Sam snapping in his face brought him back to reality.

“Hello, earth to Dean!” He shouted out, waving in Dean’s face.

“I’m right here, what?” Dean bit back, pushing his glasses up his face, and wiping the corners of his mouth. 

“Mom said we’re going with her to the store. She’s got thanksgiving stuff she needs to get.” Sam gave him a once-over, “So maybe actual clothes would be a good idea?”

Dean looked down at himself. He had put basketball shorts and an old hoodie on after his shower, and it was cold as hell outside. He muttered out a _right_ and hopped up and ran upstairs to his room. 

He dug through his dresser for something warm. _Henley and jeans, yeah that’s warm enough._ He got dressed quick enough that he knew he could _probably_ check Clarence’s blog again before he left. _I’m not obsessed, it’s just the only way I can communicate with him. If I could talk to him a different way I wouldn’t be checking his blog so often._ He assured himself as he opened up the page.

  


**anonymous asked:** since you liked that last one so much, maybe I could manage to send another your way  
_ i’m thinking maybe you could manage to send a skype name my way and we could make this a little more private _

  


_Well, shit._

That meant Dean was faced with a dilemma. Send contact information to a stranger over the internet, or drop it? He _was_ just telling himself that he’d talk to Clarence some other way if he could. But he hadn't talked to Clarence more than four times. He wasn't like Benny, who he’d been gaming with online for years before he ever gave him a way to actually contact him. _I’m overreacting, it’s just skype, I don’t have any personal information on it._ Still, he clicked out of the window to continue his contemplation.

  


The grocery store was more packed than he thought it would be. It was like everyone in the neighborhood had chosen to do last minute thanksgiving shopping all in one day. Which is why he shouldn't have been surprised to round the corner and see his mom talking to Michael Novak. 

Dean dumped the cans he had collected for his mother into the cart and gave Michael a good once-over. He was like sixteen when they had left, so he had to be, what, twenty? Twenty one now? He looked good, but every one of the Novaks was gorgeous, so it didn't sway Dean’s opinion of him. 

Michael had never liked Dean. Even more, he had never liked Dean and Castiel's “relationship” as he called it. Their mother had a very religious family, and Michael had tended to agree with them. He was the one who pointed the boys’ ever clingy nature out to John and Mary, and turned his nose up at Mary’s assessment that they would “probably grow out of it.” He scolded Castiel when he saw them holding hands on the playground, or when they fell asleep watching a movie, cuddled up in Jimmy’s big armchair. There were quite a few times Cas had come over with big red-ringed eyes and puffy cheeks, because Michael had said that “God would punish them” but Castiel still wasn't sure why. Mary would hug him and tell him nothing was wrong with him, and that God would always love him no matter how he turned out. On those nights Dean would hold him and tell him he’d love him no matter how he turned out, too. Now, Dean let out a dry chuckle just thinking about it. 

Michael’s eyes snapped over and met Dean’s. He would have said he was getting checked out, if it wasn't for the disgusted look on Michael’s face. It was clear his opinion of Dean hadn't changed over the years. _Self righteous dick._ He turned back to Mary with a polite smile. 

“I’m afraid I must be going. Father sent me out very quickly for these,” he said, sickeningly sweet, and shaking a bag of cranberries, “and I’m afraid he won’t be too happy if I take too long. It was good to see you again, Mary.”

Dean rolled his eyes and leaned against the cart while his mom said goodbye. As soon as the area was Michael-free he turned back to face her. 

“I can’t believe you’re so nice to that dick.” Dean laughed out at his mother. 

“Dean, language.” She scolded, pulling a box of pudding off the shelf, and depositing it in the cart. “It was a long time ago that he used to behave that way. I’m sure he’s a nice boy now.”

“That doesn’t excuse it.”

“He was only sixteen.”

“I’m sixteen! And I don’t act like that!” 

“You’ll understand when you’re not sixteen anymore.”

Dean rolled his eyes. It didn’t matter how old Michael was, to Dean he never got excused for treating his little brother like shit. He couldn’t imagine treating Sammy the way he’d seen Michael treat Cas. He was sure he’d given Anna a hard time too. He almost felt bad for them, moving to a new town and not having anyone to help combat Michael’s words. He decidedly did _not_ feel bad, because the whole time he had been a phone call away. He finished helping his mom shop with bitter silence.

  


The rest of the week went by rather uneventfully. Wednesday night Sam and Dean helped Mary start some of the thanksgiving dishes. On Thursday morning they finished them and trekked to Mary’s parents for a big family thanksgiving. They had cousins from all over drive in for turkey. Dean tended to pay little attention to them all, save for the cliched “how’s school/any girls/any colleges” conversation every one of the Campbells wanted to have. He managed to get through the evening with minimal deviation from the usual answers he gave them. The whole situation was exhausting and the moment he got home he headed to bed.

  


Friday morning was slow and easy. Mary had another long shift at the hospital, and as soon as she was out the door Dean started breakfast. Half through cooking the pancakes and bacon Sam came downstairs and helped. They ate in contented silence. 

Things with Sam were always easy. Sometimes Mary thought they spoke their own silent language, but honestly they just really got each other. Sam knew when Dean didn't want to talk about something, and he knew not to bring it up. He also knew when Dean was just being a stubborn dick and when to call him on it. About Cas though, Sam never said a word. He was only eight when the Novaks left, so he didn't understand what Dean and Cas really meant to each other. He did, however, understand how devastated Dean was in the aftermath. He tried to hide it from Sam and keep going, but there’s only so much hurt you can hide from someone living with you. 

So Sam sat with him quietly and ate his pancakes. When Dean wanted to talk about it, he’d be ready to listen.

  


After clearing the breakfast dishes Sam hit the books, and Dean returned to his room to check tumblr. _That’s right, Clarence._

He had almost forgotten about his little obsession as of late. 

He hadn't updated since the last ask he answered. The idea of talking to Clarence more was incredibly enticing. The idea of seeing more of Clarence made Dean’s cock give an interested twitch in his boxers. Before he could psyche himself out of it, he opened Clarence’s ask box and anonymously sent his Skype name. 

_Better late than never, I guess._


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I'm the worst at replying to comments, but I love you all for your admiration and support!!

Dean was running late. He knew he was. So when he heard Becky’s excited whimpers on the other side of his open locker door, he contemplated just crawling in until she left. He closed his locker with a little more force than necessary, and let out a big sigh when he saw her beyond happy expression. 

“What ever you want, Becky, no.” 

“I don’t want anything, silly!” She annunciated by playfully smacking his arm, “I just wanted to let you know I got a new recruit for the GSA meeting today!”

“If its one of your weird shipper friends again, no. Please.” Dean sighed out. 

“Don’t worry, I learned from my last mistake. This guy is totally smokin’ and totally gonna feel right at home in our little group, I promise!”

Before Dean could answer back she was off down the hallway, scurrying to class. He slung his backpack over his shoulder and rushed off to auto shop. 

GSA, or Gay-Straight-Alliance, was the only school club Dean was a part of. He practically ran the thing. Technically Coach Mills ran the thing, and he and Jo were the student ambassadors in charge of the club. And really all Jo really did was enforce rules, or shout until everyone listened to Dean. So every Wednesday after school in the gymnasium Dean and Jo tried to run a small gathering of queer students. It usually went pretty easily, although having new members tended to trip up the plans and get them stuck. Dean didn’t actually have anything planned for today, so maybe getting to know a new member was a good thing. 

He pondered about it through auto shop. It was his only class he could stand to slack off in. Mr Singer was an old friend of the family, and happened to be Dean’s auto shop teacher. A few summers previously Bobby had taken Dean out to his scrapyard and showed him how to gut and replace just about every machine he had out there. Dean kept taking auto shop to keep himself practiced, should anything happen to the impala. Before he knew it, the bell was ringing to let out school, and he was headed toward the gym to set up chairs and tables. 

There was always a good half hour after school was actually out before anyone bothered to show up. It was fine, it gave Dean and Jo a chance to set up and talk about what they wanted to get accomplished in the meeting. 

When the chairs were set up and students began filing in Dean ran down to Coach Mills office to let her know they were starting. She gave him a polite nod and he turned on his heel and ran back. 

When he re-entered there was none other than _fuck my life_ Cas Novak sitting next to an animatedly flailing Becky. He _really_ didn’t want to have a chat with Cas in his safe space. He sighed hard.  _Welp, I guess we’re gonna get an early jump on Awareness Week flyer responsibility assignments. Maybe when he sees I’m the leader he’ll leave. Or maybe he’ll just keep his mouth shut and not come back._

Dean joined Jo up at the head of the gathering and cleared his throat, effectively silencing the chatter and gathering attention. He adjusted his thick frames and looked out into the group. 

“I hope you all had an awesome and fattening short break. We’ve only got a few more weeks til finals, so I’m not gonna really put pressure on you guys to get stuff done before then. We are, however, going to get a jump on Awareness Week and its uh, awareness, I guess. The Kinkos down the street only lets you get so many free prints a day with your school ID, and we need, like, a metric fuck ton of flyers. So we’re gonna need to figure out what the hell the flyer is gonna look like soon, so we can delegate out whose printing how many, what days.” He glanced up and saw Becky with her hand all the way raised, practically vibrating in her seat. With a sigh he gestured towards her. “Becky, what.”

“Well, I mean, we have a new member. That means we play the name-game today, right?”

“If we have time today, maybe.”

“But Awareness Week isn’t until like January. We totally have time right now.”

Dean sighed again and turned to Jo. She gave him a sympathetic look and mouthed “Sorry” before standing to take control of the room. Dean sat back into his chair and watched the rest of the club move around the folding chairs into a wide circle and gather in the middle. He reluctantly got out of his chair to join the group and get the game started. 

“Okay, this is how the game works. Everyone in a big circle. You say your name, your grade or age or whatever, your orientation, and something nobody else in the circle knows. And we just go around until we’ve all gone. Jo will go first.” He added, shoving Jo playfully on the shoulder.

Jo took a step into the wide circle, and tossed her arms up dramatically.

“My name is Jo Harvelle, and I am a sophomore. I am bisexual, and when I was twelve I broke my arm almost clear in half.”

“Huh-uh Joanna Beth, that’s cheating. I’ve seen that nasty scar. It’s supposed to be something nobody here knows.” Dean chided her. 

“Uggh, fine. When I was a little girl I wanted to be a princess when I grew up.”

Dean snorted out a stifled laugh, and got a quick hard punch on the arm for it. 

“You’re not supposed to laugh, dick!” Jo laughed back at him. 

Dean made a face at her, laughing, while Inias took a step into the circle.

“My name is Inias, I’m a sophomore, I’m gay, and uh I have four brothers I guess.”

He was met with nods of approval as he took a step back and gestured toward Charlie next to him. She took a big step inwards and gave a big smile. 

“Heeey. I’m Charlie. Totally a junior. Totally operating at maximum lesbian capacity. And once when I was a kid I hacked into NORAD.” There were a few chuckles and scoffs as Charlie made a flourished bow and stepped back. 

“Becky Rosen. That’s my name,” she sang with an excited gestured toward herself, “I’m also a junior. And I’m straight, but I’m totally the biggest ally you’ll ever meet. And currently I have 170 pending article edits on Wikipedia.”

Dean rolled his eyes, as Becky took a step back and gave Cas next to her a hard nudge with her elbow. He scrubbed a hand through his hair anxiously and took a step towards the center of the circle. 

“My name is Cas Novak. I’m a junior. I’m pansexual. And I have eight piercings.”

His voice was deep. Deeper than he would have imagined it getting at twelve. Dean gave him a once-over and counted the glints of metal. He could only spot six piercings, which left the last two to his imagination. He tried not to think about it too hard. Cas had already stepped back in line with the circle. Dean had already mostly stopped caring. He already knew everyone in the circle. There wasn’t anything anyone was going to say to surprise him. He picked at the grease under his nails and waited for his turn. 

“My name is Corbett. I mean, my name is -uh Alan, but nobody calls me that except my dad. I’m a sophomore. And uh, I’m really into paranormal studies.”

“My name Samandriel. You can call me Alfie if that’s too much of a mouthful. I’m a freshman. And I work part time at the Wiener Hut.”

Everyone stopped and turned to Dean, who was still not paying attention. Jo elbowed him in the ribs and gave a jerking nod towards the center. Dean rolled his eyes and took a big step in. 

“I’m Dean Winchester. I’m pretty much in charge of this thing. And I’m a junior.”

“And a fact, Dean.” Jo whispered, elbowing him again. 

“And my mom makes the best pie, like ever. Happy?” 

“That’s cheating isn’t it?” Cas’ voice called out across the circle, in a somewhat teasing tone. Dean met his eyes and received a smug smile. “I mean, it’s supposed to be something no one here knows. And I’m pretty inclined to agree with it. So that makes it cheating. Pick another fact right?” He asked, cocking one eyebrow, and keeping that _stupid_ smug smile on his face. 

Dean gritted his teeth and debated decking him in his pretty face. _I’m not even that violent, I just want to make him hurt. He’s way to fucking happy for his own good._

“Once when I was thirteen I put my fist through my upstairs hallway and I broke my hand. Didn’t know that, did you, smart ass?” Dean spit back at him, trying to control the venom in his voice. 

He could see the cockiness in Cas’ eyes harden over and turn cold, but he refused to break eye contact. When Cas finally shifted his gaze to the floor the group was busy with mindless chatter about the holidays. He knew he should reign in the group and get them on topic, but he just couldn’t find it in himself to care. 

He let the group continue talking and started picking and stacking folding chairs to return to the supply closet. _Fuck him, who does he think he is. Did he think he’d just make a little joke and we’d be okay? No way, that’s how this is gonna work._ He returned back to the group to see Jo saying goodbyes and sending people off. _Fucking finally, I just want to go home._

Dean slung his backpack over his shoulder and turned to see Cas standing a little too close for comfort. 

“Dude, personal space.”

“Can I speak with you?” Cas asked, eyebrows knitted together in concern and surprise. 

“Considering your previous track record,” Dean bit back, pushing past him, “I’m not entirely sure you’re capable of it.”

He didn’t stop or turn around. He walked right out of the gym to Coach Mills office, to tell her the meeting was over. Dean didn’t want to see Cas’ face, but he was hoping it at least stung a little bit. He was hallway to his car when he felt his phone vibrate.

**[From: Jo 16:10**  
 ** dude was the massive douche-itude rly necessary?] **

**[From: Jo 16:11**  
 ** u just left cas standng in the middle of the gym like a lost puppy] **

**[To: Jo 16:13**  
 ** Good.] **

He made to Sam’s school and home without issue. Mary had left a note, she’d be off work at eight, so Dean had some time to kill. He left Sam to his homework and ventured upstairs to his computer. He set skype to **_available_** and opened tumblr. Not a whole lot going on. Same basic posts as every other day. He quickly was growing bored with it when a Skype alert sounded for a chat invitation from _thrsdy_bby_. He furrowed his brows in confusion at the screen before clicking  _accept_ and staring at the blank message window.

[thrsdy_bby] Well hello there, gorgeous  
[literallybatman] you’ve gotta be Clarence  
[thrsdy_bby] Right on the money  
[literallybatman] bit of a cliche angel pseudonym, don’t you think?  
[thrsdy_bby] Was it really that obvious?  
[literallybatman] yeah a little  
[literallybatman] not that I mind   
[thrsdy_bby] Well now I need something to call you.   
[literallybatman] how about  
[literallybatman] Bruce  
[thrsdy_bby] I think that’s a bit more obvious  
[literallybatman] you think?  
[literallybatman] I think it’s got a nice ring to it  
[thrsdy_bby] I suppose it’s fair.   
[thrsdy_bby] So what are you up to this gloomy Wednesday night?  
[literallybatman] eh not much   
[literallybatman] shitty day  
[literallybatman] trying to take my mind off it  
[thrsdy_bby] That sounds like a fantastic plan  
[literallybatman] what did you have in mind?  
[thrsdy_bby] Well  
[thrsdy_bby] The other day I picked up some new ink  
[thrsdy_bby] I’ve been dying to strip down and take some photos   
[literallybatman] I’m all for that  
[thrsdy_bby] But you should take some too  
[thrsdy_bby] For me  
[thrsdy_bby] And send them to me just the way they are  
[thrsdy_bby] Let me play with them  
[literallybatman] I think I can manage that   
[thrsdy_bby] Good.   
[thrsdy_bby] Lots of body shots  
[thrsdy_bby] I wanna see you all over.   
[thrsdy_bby] You’ve got a sweet little body I would love to get my hands on.   
[literallybatman] you’re a pretty forward guy  
[thrsdy_bby] I find it gets me exactly what I want  
[thrsdy_bby] With little confusion  
[thrsdy_bby] I apologize if its too much for you, I can tone it down  
[thrsdy_bby] I have no intention of frightening you away  
[literallybatman] no it’s fine  
[literallybatman] I actually suffer from the opposite problem  
[literallybatman] tend to clam up around anyone I’m into  
[literallybatman] turn this really awful shade of red  
[literallybatman] it’s incredibly embarrassing  
[thrsdy_bby] It sounds adorable.   
[thrsdy_bby] And let me point out   
[thrsdy_bby] You were the one to hit on me first  
[literallybatman] if I hadn’t would have never gotten here  
[thrsdy_bby] I know, I’m glad   
[thrsdy_bby] Alright  
[thrsdy_bby] I’m off for picture time  
[thrsdy_bby] I’ll see you later gorgeous  
[thrsdy_bby is offline]

Dean scrubbed a hand over his face. Clarence was exactly how he figured he would be. He had even convinced Dean to take more pictures. _It was less convincing, and more a suggestion I jumped to accept. But I just could pass up the idea of seeing more of him._ He couldn’t put a finger on what it was about Clarence that was so enticing. Might have been the mystery, might have been the ink, might have even been his attitude. Either way he definitely already had Dean wrapped around his finger, and they both knew it. So Dean got off the computer and went in search of the tripod again.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY IM SORRY LITERALLY EVERYONE  
>  ~~throw me in the garbage~~  
>  my laptop was down/in the shop for three weeks and I couldn't get anything done, and blah blah this chapter feels rushed to me, but yeah here it is. as long as I don't suffer another computer malfunction there won't be any more late or missing chapters!!  
> enjoy~~

[southern_comfort] what’d he wanna say  
[literallybatman] idk man  
[literallybatman] it was like last week  
[literallybatman] and I kinda ran outta there  
[southern_comfort] and what left him standing there  
[literallybatman] yeah  
[literallybatman] I don’t give a shit what he has to say  
[southern_comfort] he might have some explaining to do  
[literallybatman] you’re damn right he does  
[literallybatman] but I don’t wanna hear it  
[literallybatman] I’m not obligated to take his shit  
[literallybatman] if anything he should be listening to me  
[southern_comfort] well yeah  
[southern_comfort] but do you think maybe you should tell him that  
[literallybatman] no way  
[literallybatman] he’s a big boy he can figure it out for himself  
[literallybatman] maybe now he gets the picture that I don’t wanna fuckin talk to him  
[southern_comfort] you can’t avoid him forever brother  
[literallybatman] I know that  
[literallybatman] just until I’m not mad any more  
[southern_comfort] and when is that gonna be  
[literallybatman] idk  
[literallybatman] fuck  
[literallybatman] house phone  
[literallybatman] brb

Dean hopped up from his computer desk and padded downstairs, quick as he could. He caught the phone on its last ring and quickly brought it I his ear.

"Winchester residence."

"Dean?" _Son of a bitch._ Cas’ voice crackled out through the crappy phone reciever.

"So you do have my number."

"I uh, no, actually. I got it from Anna. She said it hadn’t changed though."

"Yep, same as it always was." Dean spit back. He heard Cas sigh on the other end. "What do you want, Cas?"

"To talk to you."

"Maybe I don’t wanna talk to you."

"Listen, Dean-"

"I don’t wanna listen either. I have a lot of shit to say to you before I even begin to listen to whatever you’re gonna say to me."

"So I’ll listen. And then I’ll talk."

"This is so stupid." Dean scoffed into the phone. "So, what, you’re just gonna sit here and listen to me yell at you?"

"That’s the idea."

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Why don’t you tell me, Dean?"

"God, you piss me off, do you know that? You fucked off out of my life once, can’t you take the hint and do it again?" Dean shouted, and slammed the receiver down into its cradle. He pulled his glasses off and scrubbed a hand over his face.

"Who was it, Dean?" Mary asked, poking her head out from around the corner.

"Just a telemarketer, don’t worry about it, mom."

"That’s an awful lot of anger for one little telemarketer." Mary replied earnestly.

Dean sighed and replaced his glasses on his face. "I just really don’t want us to change our long distance provider. That’s all."

"Dean.." Mary sighed out, features softening, and took a step closer.

"Can we please just not, okay?" Dean asked quietly. "I don’t wanna hear his excuses or any of his dumb crap. I’m not over it. I don’t know when I’ll ever be over it."

"You should tell him that, he might understand."

Dean nodded his head quietly, as Mary ducked back into the living room to return to her TV show. He sighed again and trudged back in to his room, collapsing into his computer chair. His message window with Benny was still open and waiting.

[literallybatman] the fucker called me  
[literallybatman] what the fuck  
[southern_comfort] did you actually talk to him  
[literallybatman] are you kidding me right now  
[literallybatman] do you even know who you’re talking to  
[southern_comfort] you hung up on him didn’t you?  
[literallybatman] damn straight  
[southern_comfort] probably not the wisest choice  
[literallybatman] how was that not wise  
[literallybatman] enlighten me  
[southern_comfort] well the boys clearly got somethin to say to you  
[southern_comfort] and obviously he understands you don’t wanna talk to him  
[southern_comfort] but whatever he’s gotta say is important enough to him to warrant a phone call  
[southern_comfort] which he knew would be a sore spot after his however many years of not doing that exact thing  
[literallybatman] four years  
[southern_comfort] whatever brother  
[southern_comfort] the point is you should listen  
[southern_comfort] or at least tell him why you refuse to  
[literallybatman] uggh I hate you  
[literallybatman] fuck you for being so damn logical  
[southern_comfort] that’s what I’m here for  
[literallybatman] you’re like a burly geppetto  
[literallybatman] err fuck  
[literallybatman] what was that cricket from pinocchio called  
[southern_comfort] jiminy cricket?  
[literallybatman] yeah that guy  
[literallybatman] but bigger  
[literallybatman] and southern  
[literallybatman] big old cricket with a cowboy hat  
[southern_comfort] I’m not that kind of southern  
[southern_comfort] I live in louisiana  
[literallybatman] yeah I’m not sure what the difference is  
[southern_comfort] yeah alright kansas boy  
[literallybatman] hey man you got typhoons and hurricanes and shit  
[literallybatman] I’m safe from all that crazy shit up here in my land locked state  
[literallybatman] except for tornados  
[southern_comfort] and wicked witches?  
[literallybatman] I will actually kill you if you make wizard of oz jokes holy shit

　

_I wonder how old Clarence actually is. I wonder if he’d even tell me if I asked him. Shit, if I told him I was sixteen he’s probably freak the fuck out. Congrats hot stranger, you make teenage boys on the internet wanna jerk off. He didn’t get on at all yesterday. Or really at all the last week. That’s kinda weird. He was probably busy. He’s a grown man, he’s got his own life. But I do have some pictures for him, so hopefully he gets on soon. I could probably actually send them to his tumblr if he doesn’t get on tonight._

_I wonder what he actually looks like. I bet he’s got dark hair and a pretty mouth. I bet there’s a few piercings to match, even. I did see a few glints in that gif he posted before, at least one nipple has to be pierced. I wonder how bad those hurt? Probably nothing compared to those giant ass wings on his back._

The ending bell for first period rang out, jolting Dean back to the real world. He gathered up his things and stuffed everything into his bag quickly. He hadn’t meant to zone out through the whole class period, but he wasn’t terribly worried about his grade. He was the only one in the class to do any of the extra credit essays, and Mr Fitzgerald always posted his lesson plans on his website.

He yanked his bag up off the floor and rushed out of the classroom, eyes down, knocking full force into a warm body. He adjusted his glasses and looked up, meeting a familiar pair of dark rimmed blue eyes. Castiel was opening his mouth to speak, but Dean flat-out didn’t care.

"‘Scuse me." He bit out as he shoved past.

"Will you just give me, like, a minute of your time?" Cas called out from behind him.

Dean stopped in his tracks and turned, trudging back to where Cas was still standing. He stared him down, but Cas looked earnest. "After school." He sighed out with an eye roll. He turned again and rushed off down the hallway before Cas could really get a hold of the situation.

"You won’t regret it!" He heard from over his shoulder.

_Yeah right, I’ll probably regret it the second I have to see your face again._

　

The rest of the day passed in monotony. Classes had passed by so blandly and slowly that by the time the final bell rang he had forgotten his promise to meet Castiel after school. He would have blown off the situation all together, if not for Castiel’s persistence. He stood overly long at his locker, staring in and wondering if he’d forgot something. But making his way to his car Dean could see him, half across the school parking lot, leaning against the impala and finishing the last dregs of a cigarette. _Dammit, not this again. Why did I agree to humor him?_ He sighed and kept his head down until he reached the impala.

"Are you smoking?" Dean asked with disdain, stopping in front of him.

"Yeah." Castiel replied before taking another drag, ember burning orange and putting off smoke in the cold winter weather.

"That’s disgusting." He spit back, watching the other boy pinch the glowing cherry out of the filter, and flick the butt away. "You’re not even old enough to buy cigarettes."

"Is this the yelling you were talking about, or is this unrelated?"

"This isn’t me yelling at you, Cas. You’ll know when I’m yelling at you. And honestly I don’t wanna have to yell at you. Hell, I don’t even wanna _talk_ to you, but you just won’t leave me alone!"

Cas nodded his head and stared at his boots, kicking sludge and dirt around in the gravel beneath him. "I just think there’s a lot that’s unsaid between us, that’s all."

"Yeah," Dean scoffed, "there’s a lot that’s unsaid. I waited for you, Cas. I waited years for you to call, or write, or do something, fucking _anything_ to let me know I mattered to you. I even tried to find you, and I got jack shit. So I get it, Castiel. Loud and clear. The thing I don’t get is why you’re trying to waste your time and energy on someone who _clearly_ isn’t worth it to you." He stared down at Castiel, but the other boy still wouldn’t meet his eyes. "And honestly at this point I don’t have the energy to even be mad about it any more. I just _don’t care._ I don’t care that you avoided me. I don’t care whether or not you want anything to do with me now. I just wanna be left alone."

Cas nodded his head again, eyes still on the ground, and pulled his leather jacket tighter around his waist. "I’ll just go then." He said quietly, stepping away from the impala.

"Really, after all that, you’re just gonna take my shit and leave?"

"You said it yourself. You don’t care. So," Castiel shrugged, "you don’t need my shit, you’ve clearly got enough of your own."

Dean stared in confusion as Castiel crossed the parking lot, headed back towards the school. "So that’s it," he called out after him, "you’re just gonna drop this whole fuckin' deal, and never talk to me again?"

"Goodbye, Dean." Castiel yelled back over his shoulder.

"Stupid." Dean muttered to himself, and climbed into the impala. "Freakin’ pointless ass conversations. _Why won’t you talk to me Dean._ Cause you’re a dumb jerk and you have nothing to say to me. Stupid."

　

Dean stood in the doorway to the kitchen, watching Mary with her hands in a sink full of soapy water. She pulled the plug in the bottom of the basin and threw a smile over her shoulder.

"If you’re going to hover, you could come help me, sweetheart."

Dean picked up a dish towel and stepped up to the sink, taking a wet dish from Mary, quickly drying it, and placing it into the overhead cupboard. Half of the dishes were done before Dean paused and cleared his throat.

"I uh, I talked to Cas today."

"That’s nice honey," Mary said, handing him another dish. "What did he have to say?"

"He didn’t actually say anything. I just kinda yelled at him and then he walked away."

"Well, what did you yell at him?"

"Told him I waited for him." He said, finally drying the dish in his hands. "That I don’t care any more and I just wanna be left alone."

"Then he just walked away?"

"Then he said I didn’t need his shit piled onto mine. _Then_ he walked away."

"Isn’t that what you wanted?" She asked, handing him the last dish and leaning against the counter.

"I guess? I mean I don’t want to hear his excuses, but I’d kinda like some answers, y’know?" He placed the dish in the cabinet and turned to face his mother. "What d’you think?"

"I think that boy used to love you quite a lot. And he must have his reasons for what he did. But you’re not obligated to listen. I think he knows that too." Mary said, pulling him into a hug. "Maybe you’ll eventually get your answers, maybe you won’t. But I’m glad you let him know how you felt."

"Yeah I guess you’re right." Dean mumbled into her shoulder. "Thanks mom."

"No problem, sweetheart."

　

_Scroll. Scroll. Scroll. Same shit, different day._

Dean moused over out of tumblr and clicked at the Skype chat list, hoping for a little green icon alerting him to Clarence’s online arrival, but he still remained offline.

_No dice. Still. It’s been how many days? I’m beginning to feel creepy, waiting up for him._

He clicked back to tumblr and went to Clarence’s blog. No new posts in weeks. He kicked out away from his desk and spun his chair around in circles, staring absently at the ceiling.

_I think Ash is having a party this weekend. That sounds kinda bleh, though. A bunch of drunk teenagers in an empty pool sounds like a mess of social interaction I don’t want to deal with. Maybe I’ll blow off and rewatch Firefly instead. I think mom works a double on Saturday, too. Maybe Sammy’ll stay home and marathon with me, like we used to when we were younger. I wonder if there’s anything new on Netflix?_

Dean quit spinning and pulled himself back up to the computer desk and wiggled the mouse to wake the screen up again. Clarence’s blog was still up on the screen, unchanged. He clicked over to Skype, still greeted with the same grey offline icon as before. _Fuck it._ He quickly clicked the **submit** button and opened enough tabs to submit all the pictures he had taken. _Stupid tumblr submit regulations._ He checked to make sure he was definitely anonymous and that his face was cut out of all of the pictures, before one by one beginning the upload. He wrinkled his nose at the quick compression he knew was happening to the hi-res images he had taken. He had only taken five, in varying angles, degrees of undress, and stretched posing. Clarence had said he wanted to "play with them" whatever that meant, so Dean figured weird artistic posing would be right up his alley. He labeled them all out of five and on the last one his hands hovered over the keyboard, brain whizzing to think up a witty caption.

_I hope these are enough to play with, and that they get to you with enough detail still intact. xo bruce_

He clicked send and leaned back in his chair again. He was a little nervous, but more excited than anything to see what Clarence had planned.


	6. Chapter 6

Dean tapped his pencil against the edge of his desk, and sighed loudly at the ceiling. He was bored. English class was boring.

He could feel someone’s eyes on him, and when he turned to look he saw Cas, eyes darting away and back to the open sketch pad on his desk. Dean rolled his eyes and turned back around. In the last couple weeks they Dean had fallen into a comfortable pattern of pretending Cas wasn’t around. Ignoring him in English class. Ignoring how close their lockers were. Ignoring him in study hall. Ignoring the abstract painting in the art hallway that definitely resembled Lilith Novak. The thing he couldn’t ignore was the staring. He tried, he tried to pretend it wasn’t weird or creepy or excessive or really happening at all, but it was.

He faced the board and tried to listen to Mr Fitzgerald talk about whatever the hell they were currently studying, Shakespearean sonnets or something. He didn’t really care. There was a poem structure written on the whiteboard and he doodled it in the margins of his notebook, next to a lopsided TARDIS and a really big AC/DC.

He felt Cas’ eyes on him again, but he ignored it until the bell rang, quickly jamming his notebook into his bag and rushing out of class.

  .

By the time lunch rolled around Dean was starving. He ran through the lunch line as fast and he could and hurried to his usual table, overloaded tray in hand. Charlie’s eyes widened in surprised as his tray clattered down full onto the table. 

“You’re going to eat all that?” She balked at the overflowing tray of food and foodstuffs.

“I’m fuckin’ starving, man.” Dean mumbled, shoving half a slice of pizza into his mouth and unwrapping his twinkies.

Jo sat down next to him, scrunching her nose up at his lunch pile. “When you come up for air I’ve got a favor to ask you.”

Dean gave a thumbs up and continued nearly inhaling his pizza slice.

Jo and Charlie laughed and turned back to their own food, picking through whatever disturbing lunch meal they had picked out. If you actually stopped to taste the cafeteria food it was all really sort of bland and grey and unappealing. Jo sighed and gave up after a few soggy tasteless fries, pushing her tray away and looking around the room. 

“Does that Cas kid keep staring at you?” She asked, gesturing at him with a thumb and taking a bag of chips from Dean’s tray.

“Mno he duffnt.” Dean replied through a mouthful of Twinkie and Gatorade.

“Yeah pretty sure he’s doing it right now.”

“Who’s doing what?” Ash asked, taking a seat across from Dean.

“Cas is staring at Dean.”

“Mno he iffnt!” Dean nearly shouted again, half spraying food across the table, and nearly knocking his own glasses off.

“Well, yeah. You girls just gettin’ to notice this?” Ash replied while Dean tried to get his food situation under control.

“Seriously, what’s the deal with you guys..?” Jo asked, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Nothing. He’s a douche. Who cares. I thought you wanted me to do something for you?”

“Oh, right!” Jo said, bouncing in her seat. “The winter art show is like, right at the end of winter break, and I need you to be my wingman.”

“Is that about that artist chick, Meg?” Charlie asked, poking Jo in the side.

“Maayyybe.”

“Wait, who the fuck is Meg?”

“You know, ” Charlie started, taking a package of ho-hos from Dean’s hulking tray, “she used to be totally normal or whatever and then over last summer she cut all her hair off and bleached it and came back doing crazy art. I heard she already has a scholarship because of it. She hangs out with the Rubys. And that Crowley kid.”

“Right.” Jo confirmed. “And she’s the one whose basically running the winter art show. Hers is the centerpiece and she asked me to come see. But I don’t wanna like, go alone, ya know? I could totally strike out. But if I had my totally cool wingman with me we could totally make fun of some dorky art if she blows me off.”

“Yeah yeah, I guess.”

Jo squealed and threw her arms around Dean’s neck. “Thank you dude, I owe you one for sure.”

“Yeah I know you do. I won’t be forgetting that any time soon, either.” Dean replied, unwrapping a sandwich and taking a bite.

“He is,” Charlie said, squinting off somewhere Dean couldn’t see. “He is definitely staring at you.”

“What?” Dean asked irritably, using a knuckle to shove his glasses back up his face.

“Cas. He’s staring at you.”

Dean rolled his eyes and turned on his seat to where they were all looking. “No he’s not, he’s drawing or whatever. Like he always is. Just drop it, Jesus.” He said, taking another bite and turning around.

“If anybody’s starin’ it’s cause he’s eating like a damn black hole.” Ash responded and starting picking through Jo’s soggy fries. He quickly came to the same conclusion as Jo, shoving the nasty potatoes away and poking at Dean’s tray.

“I’m hungry,” Dean said defensively. “I woke up late and skipped breakfast. _Never_ doing that again.”

Charlie laughed and gave a little wave to some people walking by and turned to Jo. “Soo… Meg. What’s going on there?”

“I dunno. Nothing yet. She’s cute, and she’s in my Latin class. I asked about her art and she told me she’s the main piece in the show coming up. Asked me to come see and _keep her company_.” She said, wiggling her eyebrows.

“When is it, anyway?” Dean asked. “Like I know it’s the winter opening show or whatever. But what day of my vacation am I giving up to watch you embarrass yourself?”

“Shut up,” she laughed, elbowing him in the ribs, “it’s like the second or third of January? I have no idea. There’s fliers like everywhere , man, just pick one up before the days over.”

Dean nodded and continued attacking his slowly disappearing lunch pile, the rest of them watching him in both contented and disturbed silence.

  .

"Boys could you move your backpacks from the bottom of the stairs?" Mary called out from the doorway, stepping over the offending bags, balancing a big paper bag of take-out in her arms. The boys bounded down the stairs quickly when they heard her voice. Sam swiped the backpacks and lugged them back upstairs as Dean snagged the bag out of out of his mother’s hands.

“I got it mom.” Dean said, sticking his face in the bag and giving it a deep inhale. “What did you get?”

“Chinese. The usual. Go ahead and take it to the table, will you sweetheart?” Mary said, toeing off her shoes in the entryway and hanging up her coat.

They sat down and started dishing out food. Their usual was beef & broccoli, general tso’s chicken, and and huge fried rice from the Chinese place down on the corner. It had opened up the previous summer and they already were very familiar with the Winchesters. Mary had told Dean once that she wished she could be home for the boys more, cooking them real food. He knew she would be if she could, but she worked a lot, and both boys understood. Mary loved her job. She loved helping people and she loved all the people she got to meet. Sometimes she’d come home upset, like if she lost a patient she had been particularly close with, but those were the days Dean tried his hardest to keep her happy.

“Is that blood?” Sammy asked, furrowing his brows together.

“Oh,” Mary sighed, looking down at her scrubs. “I didn’t realize I had..” She trailed off looking at the dark bloodstain across her stomach. “It’s been a long day, boys.” She said, pulling her scrub top over her head and tossing it into the hall, tugging down her long sleeved shirt in the process.

They ate in silence for most of the meal, the occasional _pass me the chicken_ or _can I get another soy packet_ were the only conversation. Sam was the first to finish and push himself back from the table.

“I’m stuffed, I can’t eat another bite.” Sam said, leaning all the way back in his chair. “Good way to start winter break, thanks mom.”

“Do you boys have any plans for the next couple weeks?” Mary asked as she took another bite.

“Jo’s already tricked me into going with her to some school art thing next week. And there’s a big Doctor Who thing on Christmas. But that’s all I got.”

“Me and Kevin and Andy are gonna build an igloo when it snows, but we have to wait.” Sammy said to the ceiling.

“I have Christmas off this year. Not Christmas Eve though, so we’ll have our big dinner on Christmas.” Mary replied.

“What about grandma and grandpa?” Sammy asked, sitting forward.

“They’re all having a big Christmas Eve lunch. So, we’re going to miss that, but we’ll go over on Christmas and pick up the presents from the family.” Mary said, picking up the empty containers and paper plates and dumping them into the trash can. “Alright, you boys are free to do whatever it is you do on vacation. I’m going to have a nap. If you need anything, get it yourself and don’t tell me.” She smiled at them and left the room. 

“I call the Xbox.” Sammy said, swiping his drink from the table and following her out of the room.

  .  

Dean sat down in his computer chair, opening Skype and tumblr. He set himself to **_available_** and checked to see what his queue had posted while he was at school. It wasn’t long before his Skype noise chirped and a message popped up.

[thrsdy_bby] Have you seen it yet?

Dean stopped. _Seen what?_ He typed in Clarence’s URL and was met with his own body next to another. It was. _Wow._ Every picture Dean had taken Clarence had take one of himself in an identical pose. And it was gorgeous. He was all inked planes of lithe muscle and seeing his body next to Dean’s was kind of daunting.

[literallybatman] jesus  
[thrsdy_bby] Yeah? You like it?

He was intimidatingly gorgeous. The ripple of his back muscles under those wings. The sharp curve of his hip under the soft white lily. The ridge of his ribs under something new and fresh and frankly, looking a lot like gibberish. He looked fucking beautiful and had Dean half hard in his jeans already, just knowing that those pictures were for him.

[literallybatman] they’re gorgeous  
[thrsdy_bby] Good. I’m glad you like them.   
[literallybatman] is that the new tattoo you got  
[thrsdy_bby] Yep  
[literallybatman] what language is that  
[thrsdy_bby] Enochian. Language of angels.   
[thrsdy_bby] It’s a protection spell  
[literallybatman] it’s beautiful  
[literallybatman] i mean they’re all beautiful  
[literallybatman] you’re really beautiful  
[thrsdy_bby] You’re pretty delicious yourself, sweetheart.   
[thrsdy_bby] I am glad you like it though  
[thrsdy_bby] I am a little abashed to admit that I’ve had quite a hard time getting you out of my head since the first message you sent  
[thrsdy_bby] I don’t get many compliments to that extent  
[literallybatman] well it was true  
[thrsdy_bby] I’m flattered, I must say  
[thrsdy_bby] To know I get a pretty thing like you all worked up is quite the ego boost  
[literallybatman] i’m nothing special   
[thrsdy_bby] That’s not true  
[thrsdy_bby] To tell you the truth you’ve been the subject of a few of my more sordid fantasies over the last month  
[literallybatman] seriously?  
[thrsdy_bby] Of course  
[thrsdy_bby] You’re more gorgeous than you know  
[thrsdy_bby] God the things I would do to you.

Dean smiled to himself. There was something about Clarence that got him happy and half-hard and really fucking sexually pent up.

[literallybatman] like what   
[thrsdy_bby] How much experience have you got, baby?  
[literallybatman] not a lot  
[literallybatman] you weren’t far off when you said virgin  
[thrsdy_bby] Isn’t that just wonderful  
[thrsdy_bby] I would love to get my hands on you  
[literallybatman] i’d like that  
[literallybatman] quite a lot actually  
[thrsdy_bby] As would I  
[thrsdy_bby] What I’d really like is to have you laid out under me  
[thrsdy_bby] But we can’t always get what we want, can we?  
[literallybatman] i suppose not  
[thrsdy_bby] Otherwise I’d have something as beautiful as you to come home to every night  
[literallybatman] you’re too sweet  
[thrsdy_bby] Not sweet enough for you I’m afraid  
[thrsdy_bby] I am left wondering if you’ve got a stellar face to match   
[thrsdy_bby] Obviously a video chat would be a fantastic way to spend our time  
[thrsdy_bby] But judging by your frequent cropping that is not something you’re comfortable with  
[literallybatman] i’m just a bit shy is all  
[thrsdy_bby] That’s alright  
[thrsdy_bby] You don’t need to make excuses  
[thrsdy_bby] If you’re not comfortable, you’re not comfortable  
[thrsdy_bby] We’ve all got boundaries   
[thrsdy_bby] I intend to respect yours  
[literallybatman] you really are too sweet  
[thrsdy_bby] Not a thing I get called too often, I’m afraid  
[thrsdy_bby] I’m also afraid that I must be going  
[thrsdy_bby] Things to do and all that  
[literallybatman] alright then  
[thrsdy_bby] But I will be talking to you later darling  
[thrsdy_bby] Plan on it   
[thrsdy_bby is offline]


	7. Chapter 7

“Soo..?” Jo said as she slid across the seat and elbowed Dean in the arm. “How was your Christmas?”

“It was, y’know. It was Christmas.” He said distractedly, trying to keep his eyes on the road. “There was a big tree. And some presents. Books. DVDs. Sam gave me a necklace. My grandpa gave me a pile of plaid. Watched Doctor Who and ate a whole pie. Christmas-y.”

“I’m not gonna be able to ask about Doctor Who without getting a long winded list of plot holes am I?”

Dean snorted as he pulled into the circle drive. “It’s not likely. Plus I don’t wanna spoil anything if you haven’t seen it. It did vaguely half-ass answer a few of the previous gaping plot holes Moffat left though.” The circle drive was nearly full of students and he ended up having to park way down near the end of it. It was worth the dark spot to not have to go all the way around to the student parking lot. Dean killed the engine and turned to Jo. “So you sure Meg’s here right now? Cause this whole hanging out with people from our school thing isn’t really my scene, and I’m not really keen on coming back of she’s not.”

“What’s wrong, don’t wanna support your fellow classmates?” Jo teased at him while she tapped away at her phone.

“Not really, not since Zachariah and his little band of assholes discovered I could fit in my locker.”

“What?” She chided back, “when was this?”

“Like freshman year. He didn’t like the way I talked to him, or some shit. You think he’s weird and creepy now, you should have seen him then. His head has always been that big, his body just caught up. Plus I guess he’s just always friends with seniors. Anyways, he found me after school, got one of his cronies to knock my lights out, guy called Uriel. Friggin' huge for a teenager, all bald and grumpy, whatever. He shoved me into my locker and left.”

“Jesus Christ, Dean.” She said, finally taking her eyes off the screen. “How did you get out?”

“Ash, actually. When I woke up and calmed down I called him. He broke into the school and got my locker open. I had a black eye for like a week. It was so stupid. My mom wanted me to do something about it, but it turns out Zach’s dad is like the superintendent or something. Ash planted drugs in Uriel’s locker though, got him expelled. You should have seen the look on his stupid face. It was almost worth the panic attack. Since then I’m not really big on hanging around, or really even making eye contact with people from our school. Or really at all, actually.”

“Dude, you’re totally friends with people in gay club.”

“They don't count, okay. Whatever, are we going inside or what? Is she here?”

“Yeah yeah, she’s inside. You don’t have to stay all night. Just long enough to make sure I’m not reading the wrong signals. If I strike out we can go watch Star Trek or something, I dunno.” Jo said as she finally climbed out of the car.

“Good,” Dean yelled back, following her up the circle drive to the schools gallery entrance. “Because you still haven’t seen Voyager. Janeway friggin' rules and you’ll love it.”

Dean followed her up the steps and into the building, and what he saw was not what he expected.

The usually empty gallery was full of students projects, photos, drawings, sculptures, you name it. It was all pretty good stuff, too. There were students and parents, and a few teachers milling about and looking at projects, but Meg was nowhere to be seen. He could feel the butterflies starting to swell in his stomach as he looked around the room at all the people. Before Dean could even open his mouth Jo was rolling her eyes and turning to him.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist, dude. She’s here, she’s just busy.”

“Remind me to never tell you anything again.” Dean balked back.

“Just enjoy some art.” She laughed out. “Would it kill you to get a little bit of culture here?”

“It might.” He replied distractedly, eyeing a particularly strange and vaguely vulva shaped sculpture.

It ended up not being too bad. Alfie had a fairly large painting on one wall, and they found him right off. It was some sort nondescript figure, but it was big and angelic and looked kind of like it was wearing a Wiener Hut uniform. He was pretty excited to have something in the gallery at only his freshman year, considering a lot of artists at the school had to wait until their junior or senior year to be noticed, apparently.

It was kinda cute the way got all worked up over it, and blushed when Dean complimented him was even cuter. He was still mid conversation with Alfie when something caught Jo’s eye and she dragged him across the gallery. He threw an apologetic glance and shrug over his shoulder at the kid and got ready to chew Jo out. When he saw what she was dragging him to he stopped and _gaped._

It was, well it was beautiful, but it was definitely Dean. It was part painting, part chalk, part- hell Dean had no idea. It was all green eyes and white stretching smile and sun-kissed freckles. The butterflies in his stomach turned into excited bees, warm and buzzing in his insides. Dean was stunned into shocked silence, but Jo was gawking and shoving her face up close to it, fingers moving across the plexiglass, tracing the freckles on the bridge of the piece’s nose. She grabbed Dean by the collar of his coat, yanking his face forward and shoving his glasses up onto his forehead.

“Jesus, even the freckles are in the right place.” She huffed at him, continually moving her eyes from his face to the painting. “I mean, you’ve got more than that, but every one in the picture is right here. It’s like, perfect, Dean. It’s eerie.”

He pushed her hands off his coat and re-adjusted his glasses on his face. It _was_ eerie. It was also a little flattering. He stepped closer and let his fingers roam over the plane of plastic covering it, like he could feel his own face underneath it. A glint under it caught his eye, and he finally saw the name plate.

  
  


_Consequences_   
_**C Novak** _

  
  


_Cas. Of fucking course._ He stroked his thumb over the edge of the name plate and gave a dry chuckle. _Who the hell else did I think it could have been?_

“C Novak? Isn’t that that Castiel kid?” Jo asked. She took a sharp intake of breath and Dean felt her small hands on his shoulder. “Oh, Dean.” She sighed, and it would have felt comforting if it didn’t feel pitying.

It was easy to hate Cas, or at least he had told himself he hated him. About a year after he quit anticipating his phone calls he promised himself if Cas ever called he would shout in his face and hang up. So far, he was par for the course, but it didn’t help the niggling wonder what the hell he had done to make his supposed best friend cut him out completely. Every time he felt a pang of regret or pain of guilt he just repeated the same mantra over and over again to himself. _He’s a dick. He doesn’t want me. And I hate him._ It was easy to tell himself and he liked to pretend it made it hurt less.

“Let’s just find Meg, okay? I’m supposed to be your wingman. This,” he gestured at the painting “doesn’t change why we’re here.”

He didn’t look back at Jo, but he knew the face she would make at him if he did, and he didn’t want to see it. Instead, he headed toward the back of the gallery, where there were big red lights pointed at something dark and weird and strangely visceral looking. It had to be Meg’s, there was nothing else that has this much focus on it, and her name was clearly on the art show fliers as the ‘artist on display’.

“This is kind of gross. And terrifying.” He said as he approached what appeared to be some sort of latex skin and metal hook monstrosity. “And it’s clearly made of actual people. Jo, hate to break it to ya, pretty sure your little girlfriend is killing people for art.”

“Aw, thanks Dean-o, d’you really mean it?” Meg crooned from over Dean’s shoulder.

“Yeah definitely,” he replied. “I threw up in my mouth a little, even.”

“If I can make one person physically sick a day, I feel like I’ve done my job.” She said with a smile.

Dean snorted a laugh and mentally checked out of the conversation. He didn’t particularly care for Meg, or her weird friends, but if it made Jo happy he was willing to go to stupid art shows or go shopping cart racing or take her knife shopping or whatever dumb thing Jo came up with for him to do, like she always did.

He looked around the room again, and poor little Alfie was standing all by himself just twiddling his thumbs and staring at his feet. The kid was seriously adorable, Dean had definitely contemplated asking him out to a movie or something once or twice, but every time doubt won over and he chickened out. The other boy caught his gaze and smiled at him, that big sweet smile he always gave. He turned back to get Jo’s attention, but she was in the middle of a very close and quiet conversation, Meg’s fingers tangled in her belt loops, both of them oblivious to the world. He turned to leave and tapped out a quick “txt if you need me” text to Jo as he walked.

He made it halfway to the door texting and walking before he bumped into somebody. He lifted his eyes to apologize, but before the words could leave his mouth he was met with a familiar blue gaze.

“Dean.” Cas said, as if he was caught like a deer in the headlights.

“Oh. Hey, Cas.” Was the only thing his brain could awkwardly spit out. The bees in his stomach buzzed so hard he could feel them in his fingertips.

“I didn’t think this would be the kind of thing you’d turn up to.”

“Yeah, it’s not, not really. Jo wanted to date some artist chick, so I was uh, I was playing wingman or whatever.” Dean said, awkwardly staring at his shuffling feet. “I uh, I saw your- your thing or whatever. It’s really good.”

“Oh.” Cas sighed. “That’s kind of embarrassing. Can I talk to you, like outside or something? I mean, you can say no, but I’d really like to talk to you now.”

Dean nodded dumbly and followed Cas out of the gallery and down to the circle drive. Somehow Cas had spotted the impala in the dark and bee-lined across the circle drive to it. They both leaned against the car, an awkward silence hanging between them. The bees in his stomach turned back into butterflies, dancing in his stomach, wings fluttering out against the lining in wide motions. Cas took a shaky breath and blew out a big steamy huff of air, scrubbing his hands over his face.

“My mom died.” He said as if testing the air around him. He seemed to wait for Dean's surprise before he continued. “Like six months after we moved. I guess that was why we moved or whatever. She had late stage pancreatic cancer, and there was this doctor in Illinois who was trying this new thing that could have saved her or whatever. It didn’t save her, obviously. I mean we didn't really see eye to eye on like anything before we moved, but she was my mom, man. And Michael-” he stopped to pull his leather jacket tighter around his chest with a bitter laugh. “From the second we left Michael was telling me I was damning them. That _God_ was going to find a way to punish me for the way I was. When they sat us down in the new house and told us why we had moved Michael looked at me with hate in his eyes. I mean, I was just a kid, and hes- hes-” he cut himself off with a hand over his eyes, wiping away whatever it was he had taken issue with. “And it sounds so _stupid_ now. I didn’t give my mother fucking cancer because I wanted to kiss the neighbor boy.”

Dean turned and placed a hand on Cas’ shoulder, eyeing the tear tracks streaking his cheeks. “Cas.” was the only thing he could think to say back, but Cas met his eyes and leaned into his touch.

“It was just so stupid. I was so scared and alone and any time I even thought for a second _y’know maybe if I just call once_ he was right there asking if I was thinking impure thoughts. If I was trying to kill our mother. Who the fuck says that to a kid? By the time she died I had heard it so much I thought it was really fucking my fault. I even tried to pray for forgiveness, but Michael just got worse from there. It was,” he paused to wipe his eyes and lean further into Dean’s touch, arching like a cat into him when Dean finally just wrapped the arm around his shoulders. “It got bad, man. Michael is scary as shit. I mean, he’s my own fuckin' brother and I’m scared shitless of him half the time. I’m not even surprised you hate me, either. I mean shit, I hated me for the whole situation. I mean yeah it’s been years, but what you must’ve thought of me in the beginning. Man, I deserve it.”

“I thought you didn’t want me.” Dean whispered, almost too quietly, but entirely too loudly for his own well being. The words hadn't even checked his brain before they were spilling out of his mouth. Before he could mentally chastise himself he had an armful of Cas, wrapped around him and holding him, pressed against the impala.

“I never stopped wanting you, Dean Winchester. Not even for a minute.” He mumbled into Dean’s neck, and it was like suffocating.

They both grasped tight at each other and somehow Cas managed to find Dean’s mouth with his own and it was like _fireworks._ Cas tasted like mint and cigarettes and Dean could feel it in the bottom of his stomach, like the butterflies in his gut were rusting out and combusting, popping apart and painting the inside of his ribcage with a brilliant stinging emptiness he wanted Cas to fill. It had never giving the inkling of even starting as a chaste kiss, but it wasn’t long until Cas’ hands found themselves into Dean’s hair and angled his head _just right_ to lick across the seam of Dean’s mouth.

Dean was like putty in Cas' hands, and he knew it. Every move Cas made was eagerly received and mimicked in turn. Once he felt the weight of Cas against him, it all came crashing down around them, and the inevitable roll of Cas' hips had him stuttering and groaning out against the other boy. Every one of Cas' movements had him gripping harder against him, putting more insistence into each kiss, feeling his heart hammering harder against his ribcage. It was too much, but he couldn't stop it. Couldn't stop the feeling of Cas' hands against him, or the way his skin tasted, the way he completely yielded to Dean's touch.

He felt Cas' hand behind him, grasping at the impala for god knows what. Cas found what he was looking for behind Dean, which was clearly the door latch _duh Dean_ and both boys tumbled into the backseat of the impala. Dean quickly scrambled back against the far door, Cas following closely. They were barely apart a few seconds before Cas had reaffixed himself to Dean like he needed him to breathe, sucking bruises into his skin, and _what is that, a tongue piercing?_ lathing his tongue across them.

He could feel Cas' hands on his bare chest, hot, heavy, and insisting. It was way too much. His heart was in his throat banging against his windpipe and he was struggling to breathe it all in. He could feel Cas' hands roaming up, rucking his shirt under his armpits to get more skin to kiss quickly blooming bruises onto. He raked his blunt nails through Cas' hair, mouth sputtering as he tried to come up with the words on the tip of his tongue, the words Cas' tongue was very nearly erasing from his mind. Cas' wet kisses trailed lower and lower, and when they finally met the jeans he was working to unfasten Dean's mind kicked into gear.

“Cas..” He half-whispered, and in response only received a groan and another mark being sucked into the skin of his hipbone. “Cas, you- you gotta stop. Man, I'm not- I can't do this. I gotta, we gotta stop. Stop.”

Castiel sat back on his knees, eyebrows knitted together in confusion and hands up in surrender. “Sorry, I didn't mean to- what'd I do wrong?”

“You broke my heart, Cas.” Dean spit out defeatedly, still struggling to catch his breath. “You didn’t mean to, but you did. And you can’t just undo that with whatever the hell we’re about to do now. I don’t think I could handle that. I can’t handle _this_ ,” he said, motioning between them, “at the speed it’s going.”

“What can you handle?” Cas asked quietly.

“Can we just be friends again? I’ve been waiting for years just to get my best friend back.”

Cas nodded and fastened Dean’s pants again, smoothing his shirt back down his tummy in the process. “Can I at least..?” He asked, motioning a hug with his arms. Dean nodded and Cas leaned in wrapped his arms around Dean’s waist, face snuggled into his chest. “I would very much like to be friends with you again, Dean.”

Dean smiled and carded his fingers through Cas’ messy dark hair. He felt Cas’ arms tighten around him as he sighed into Dean’s tummy. _This is a lot easier, nice even. I can do this. I can do a lot of this._

“I have to go back inside. I’m not supposed to leave while my project is still up.” He let go of Dean’s waist, to search through his pants pockets. Finding the right pocket, he dropped back onto his haunches and pulled out a sharpie. He grabbed Deans’s arm and pulled the cap off with his teeth. “Text me, alright? We have a lot of catching up.” He mumbled through the marker cap, as he scrawled out his number onto Deans’s skin.

He capped the marker and stuffed it back into his pocket, leaning forward into Dean’s space. Dean’s head thunked against the window as he met Cas’ eyes. It was hard to forget he was still sprawled out in the backseat of his car, but Cas still between his legs was an enticing fucking offer no matter what the situation. Part of him hated his wounded heart for turning Cas down. The other part was glad as hell that Cas was still the same understanding and loving person he always was.

Cas brought his hand up to Deans’s face, thumb brushing softly against his cheekbone, and leaned in. Dean didn’t try to fight it for a second as Cas placed one more chaste kiss against his lips. He could feel his resolve begin to wain as Cas pulled away. If he really wanted, he could just pull him right back and keep getting ravished. Honestly, he really did want to keep going.

“Okay okay, I’m sorry, I just. That was the last time.” Cas said, quickly backing out of Dean’s space. “I’m really going now. And really, text me before the night is over. Please, Dean.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but his brain was unwilling to cooperate, so he just nodded back. Cas smiled at him and stared maybe a little longer than he should before he crawled back out and headed back up to the school.

Kissing Cas, like really kissing Cas, was better than he imagined. _Yeah and now you don't get to do that anymore, do you Dean? Smooth move, really. Couldn't get over your feelings for like 20 minutes? You had the guy of your dreams writhing to get his hands in your pants and you shoved him out of the car._

He sighed and stared at the phone number on his arm, thunking his head against the glass again.

_What the hell did I just turn down?_


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, this is short because I spent the month getting ready for a convention, and also late because I was at said convention and forgot they didn't have wifi. its actually twice as late because I accidentally saved instead of posting. I'm a real dumbass, I know.

“Did you do that car stuff?” Cas asked as Dean entered the kitchen.

“I did the spark plugs and the belt and got it ready for an oil change. I’m not done with everything, but I’m out of sunlight, so it’d be a little too difficult to continue.” Dean said as he washed his hands.

“Yeah I’m not really sure what any of that means. So the car stuff _is_ done? Is _not_ done? What’s going on?” He asked with a questioning eyebrow. Mary laughed into her wine glass across the kitchen table.

“It’s like half done. I mean you could probably drive it home? But the tune up stuff isn’t done. I could drive you home if you want.”

Mary finished her drink and shook her head. “He’s blocking us both in. So the options are drive home and come back, or stay over.” She said as she walked to the sink and rinsed out her glass. “You’re always welcome to stay here, sweetheart.” She said with a smile, and patted Dean on the shoulder on her way out of the kitchen.

“Did- would you want to do that? To stay over?” Dean asked, fixing his glasses and staring at his feet.

“Yeah, I mean, if that’s okay. Yeah. It’ll be like when we were kids.”

Dean nodded and shuffled his feet. Cas made him nervous. Even from day one Cas had made him a little nervous, but here alone with him in the kitchen, Dean was nervous. Just because they had agreed to be friends didn’t mean ever stopped being attracted to every aspect of the other boy. The slope of his shoulders under his t-shirt, the wide shape of his hands, the pink permanently chapped plush of his mouth, the way his nose crinkled when he _really_ laughed about something; it was all enough to make Dean feel giddy, and frankly a little turned on.

“Awesome.” Dean said in the most confident voice he could muster up.

Cas smiled back and made his way to the living room.

.

Being friends with Cas was easier than he thought it would be. Yeah, he made him nervous and looking at him hurt a little sometimes, but the way he fit seamlessly back into Dean’s life was all he had wanted as a kid. Well, almost all.

Mary had been absolutely elated the first time he asked if Cas could come over, and when she saw him she squeezed him so hard Dean could swear he heard his back pop.

But things like this were easy.

Sitting next to Cas on the couch, watching Netflix, that was easy. Sam had come home from Andy’s, rolled his eyes at their Classic Who marathon, and gone straight to bed. Now, Dean was mostly asleep, blinking lazily at the TV, while K9 beeped and whirred out orders to Leela playing chess. He looked over at Cas to see the other boy snuggled into the couch, eyes closed.

“Cas, wake up.” Dean said and nudged at Cas' knee with his foot.

“I'm totally awake. I'm like the most awake person ever.” He replied groggily without opening his eyes.

“Dude, there's a bed upstairs.”

“That is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

Dean laughed as Cas sleepily hopped up from the couch, almost knocking himself back down. He slipped his hand into Dean's and mumbled a _c'mon lets go_ while shuffling quietly towards the stairs. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt Cas' hand in his, but the insistent tug towards his room kept him grounded. He followed Cas up the stairs and into his own room, and stood stock still when Cas let go of his hand to wiggle out of his jeans and hoodie, and collapsed hard and face first into the far side of the mattress.

He watched Cas snuggle into his pillows and stretch out, and he felt a pang in his stomach. Having Cas back in his life was great, but seeing him in his bed was something else all together.

Dean shucked his pants and overshirt and crawled into bed, curled up and tense, listening to Cas breathe and shift. He contemplated just getting back out of bed and getting a snack or maybe checking if Clarence was online when he felt a warm weight against his back.

Cas wound his arm around Dean's waist and nuzzled his nose against his neck, humming contentedly. Dean all but melted against the contact, placing his glasses on the bedside table before wiggling back against the other boy.

This was nice. Everything else could wait.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> April fools! We all thought I would post this in the morning. I even fooled myself!  
> I did, however, sign up for the DCBB also, so I'm sorry if I miss more deadlines here, but I'm working hard, and it will eventually pay off.

He didn't know what he expected to see at Cas' house, or really why Cas has kept him away from it for so long, but this was not it. The place was _huge_. He wasn't even aware there were houses this size in the neighborhood. He pulled into the drive and took an appraising look at the house before checking his GPS again, and yeah this was definitely the right place. He was half tempted to call Cas just to make sure, when the front door opened and Cas waved at him from the porch.

Dean got quickly out of the impala and jogged up the drive, and yeah the house looked even bigger when he was standing close.

“Jesus, Cas.” he muttered as he climbed the stairs.

“Yeah I know, the house is excessive.” Cas said and he let them both through the front door.

“No, its just uh, not what I was expecting.”

Dean took a look around once he actually took a step inside and yeah, it was definitely ridiculous inside. Everything looked expensive, yet _empty_. It was missing the homey quality Cas' old house had. It didn't look lived in.

He followed Cas down the hall and to a big room devoid of furniture. Instead, were plush pillows and beanbag chairs scattered around the room, a pile of books and Cas' backpack in the center. He plopped down on a particularly squishy looking beanbag chair and popped open his latin textbook, ruffling through his bag with the other hand to find his notebook. Dean shrugged off his backpack and jacket and plopped down probably closer to Cas than he needed to and pulled out his own latin notebook.

“Wanna make flashcards?” He asked with a cheesy grin, holding up a pack of note cards from his bag.

Cas smiled back and snatched them from Dean's hand. And if he leaned a little closer to than necessary Dean, neither of them said anything.

.

The front door slammed hard, and Cas winced. Without looking up from his latin book he he sighed, grumbled, and shifted away from Dean's side.

“Castiel, did you-” Michael cut himself off as he rounded the corner and spied Dean sprawled out on the floor. “Oh, I didn't realize you had _company_.” he spit out with a little too much venom for either to them to think it was an accident.

“Yes, we're studying.” Cas replied, still not looking up from his book.

Dean tried to keep his eyes on the page, like maybe if he didn't look at Michael he could will his presence away, or the book might suck him up inside. He wondered absently if that was Cas' goal all along.

“Castiel, may I please speak to you in the hallway?”

Cas rolled his eyes, but still got up and followed Michael out into the hall. He heard a quiet murmur from beyond the door, mostly it was Michael's stern angry voice and Cas hissing out responses. He couldn't understand anything they were saying, but he could pretty much imagine it was entirely Michael getting pissed about his being there, and Cas not giving a crap.

They were getting increasingly louder and harder to ignore, with Michael warning with an angry _Castiel_ and Cas hissing back an even louder _I'll be friends with who I want_. He stomped back into the room and snatched up Dean's hand, yanking him up from the ground and towards the door. Michael stayed in the hallway, arms crossed and trying yet again to call Castiel's name, but to no avail. He pulled Dean back down the hall, and it was all he could do to hang onto Cas' hand and keep his glasses on his face.

He pushed them both out the front door, trying to not mind to bitter cold, and trudged on down to the impala. Castiel's rings clinked against his own, but his hands were warm and he kind of wished he wouldn't let go. When he did finally let go he rounded the front of the car and ducked into the passenger side door. Dean had barely shut the drivers side door before Cas had one hand wrapped around his bicep, squinting angrily at his brother standing at the front door.

“Drive.” He ordered

So Dean did.

.

“Take another left up ahead, then stay right, there's a dirt turn-off.” Cas said as he kept looking around the road.

“Seriously, Cas, where the hell are we going?”

“You'll see in like 60 seconds, dude.”

Cas was right. The dirt road from the turn off ended at a small dirt parking lot, perched at the edge of a small lake Dean wasn't even sure had existed. The other side of the lake had a big play area and a trail, but because of foliage it was entirely unreachable. This small alcove only housed a picnic table with a short section of roof over it and a small dock, most likely for fishing off of.

“I'm not sure what you have planned here, Cas, but it's still like 35 degrees out. And we left all our crap on your floor.”

Cas looked down at his bare arms. He had barely even managed to shove his boots on on the way out the door, it was clear he hadn't considered the wintry weather blowing around outside. Dean rolled his eyes and leaned back over the bench seat to the floor of the backseat where he kept a pillow and oversized blanket. He grabbed the blanket and tossed it over the back of the seat at Cas.

“It's better than nothing.” He shrugged, and they both got out of the car.

They settled on the heavy seat of the picnic table, wrapped in a blanket and leaning heavily against the aging rain-warped tabletop.

“Jesus, Cas, are these all yours?” Dean asked, kicking at the plethora of cigarette butts at their feet.

“They are.”

“You're not gonna smoke now are you?”  
He shook his head and tucked in closer to Dean, pulling the blanket tighter around them. “I know you don't like it. Plus I didn't grab them. I just wanted to get out of there as fast as I could. He's such a fucking assbutt I couldn't deal with it.”

“Dude why the hell does your dad let Michael get away with any of that shit?”

“He's not really around. He only really uses the house as a place to sleep, and even then he doesn't come home every night. It started when we moved to Pontiac. He stared working later and later for more and more overtime to pay for mom's medical bills. When she died it really messed him up, but he kept going into work. Kept staying late, and throwing himself at his job. Michael just got worse and worse. I mean, he got nasty. As soon as I was old enough to get the hell away when I could, I did.”

“Is that when you went all,” Dean motioned vaguely at Cas, “Donnie Darko, or whatever?”

Cas laughed at shoved at Dean's shoulders. “No, that was partially to do with the friends I made, I suppose. Balthazar is, in a word, interesting. But he came from a very well off, very christian family, so Michael approved of him. On his part, it was probably not a very wise decision. Balthazar is a bit of a deviant, his parent had just given up on him enough to stop trying to change his behaviors. He was the first actual friend I made, and he introduced me to just about everyone else I knew there. I suppose one could say Michael pushed me into the wrong crowd.”

Dean hmmed in approval and leaned into Cas' warmth under the blanket. “You know, we could probably swim out here when it gets warm enough.”

“We could always go to the lake house, too.” Cas replied, leaning back against Dean, and placing his head gently on the taller boy's shoulder. If he lifted his legs he'd essentially be in Dean's lap, and Dean tried not to think about how that made him feel.

“Wait, you guys kept the lake house?”

“Yeah. I mean, we didn't do anything too it since we left. Its still basically an electric shed at the lake, and now there's probably some weird animal living in it. But no, we never sold it. We could go this summer, if we wanted.”

Dean nodded and they fell back into a comfortable silence. The air was biting cold around them, but their shared warmth was nice. The pool of warmth coiling in Dean's stomach was a little less nice, and he mentally scolded himself for the way his mind always went back to thinking about Cas _like that_. He tried to rocket his mind into another pocket of thought, but with Cas his brain had very limited range of things it wanted to contain.

“So did you ever-” Dean started, “I mean, did you try to.” _This isn't what I want to say. Fuck, Dean, what are you doing?_ “Never mind, I don't-” He shook his head and scrubbed a hand under his glasses and across his face.

“I wanted to.” Cas said almost too quietly. “I wanted to call the second I left Lawrence. Dad told me I could at least wait until I got to the new house. So two days of driving later we got to the house, and there was no house phone. By the time it got hooked up they had already broke the news, and Michael had already tried to tell me you were _poison_. That I was a _sinner_. That I was _killing_ our mother. It was so _stupid_ but I was so scared.”

“You know he was lying right? There's nothing wrong with you, Cas.”

“I know that now. It took a couple years, and Balthazar's help, but I did come to terms with who I am. Realized Michael was full of shit. I mean, he's still scary, but it's a lot easier when you don't believe the fire and brimstone.”

“But you still-” Dean started, “I mean you didn't-”

“I didn't call after. I know. I didn't even know how to begin to apologize. Man, I promised you everything and then I left you high and dry. It was really shitty. Possibly the shittiest thing I've ever done.”

“It wasn't your fault.”

“Not initially, no. Not calling you after _was_ my fault. The truth is I didn't know what I would have done if I had to hear you tell me what I did. I hoped so hard that you had moved somewhere else and found someone who made you happy, and that if I had managed to actually find and dial your old number I'd get that stupid 'number disconnected' message instead of all this guilt. That it wasn't that bad because the number I wasn't dialing didn't lead anywhere. Because I knew that if I heard you on the other end it would take everything not to fight to come back.”

“But you did come back.”

“I know, and here you are, same as ever.”

Dean hummed again and felt Cas press in closer to his side, turning and tightening the blanket around them more. Cas' face pressed into Dean's neck and it wasn't long before it had all turned into a big impromptu and rather sentimental hug. It was actually more like cuddling sitting down, but Dean wasn't going to say anything and risk ruining the moment.

“I'm so sorry, Dean.” Cas muttered into the junction of his neck and shoulder, and it practically punches through him.

“It's okay.” Dean whispered into his hair.

And for the first time, it was.

**Author's Note:**

> updates on the 1st and 15th of every month, barring no strange holidays or laptop death!!
> 
> ~~currently on hiatus but not abandoned~~  
> writing this in order is burning me out and I'm trying to get where I want to be with my DCBB. I may post more on posting days if i have it done, but that's dependent on DCBB and writing speed
> 
> if you're reading this, and have been as it came out, I love you and thank you for your support ~*


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